


Between Two Lungs

by isawrightless



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 13:02:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10163597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isawrightless/pseuds/isawrightless
Summary: he’s been waiting for this since forever and he’s not that far from dying for it, for more of her kisses, her taste.





	

He’s sitting next to her on the couch and he can’t breathe. It’s always like this, at least whenever he’s around her, and he keeps thinking about the way she looks all fragile and petite right now, how she can fit perfectly underneath him, how they’re meant to be.

He thinks about all of these things but his time is not his own and his life is not at all kind and loving her like this is too dangerous, especially when the universe seems too interested in taking everything from him. He can’t imagine living in a world without her and he has abslutely no idea why that fear has suddenly turned into a monstrous thing but she’s all of his dreams combined.

It’s only when she grabs the remote on the coffee table and turns off the TV that he becomes aware of the rain outside. He looks at the window first, everything is grey and cold and wet and when he stares at her, the freckles across her nose, her soft hair resting just above her shoulders, the pink bra strap falling on her shoulder contrasting with the dark fabric of her tank top, her legs exposed by her shorts-it’s cold, he tells her, it’s cold but she doesn’t care.

So when he stares, he trembles like a boy, and she smiles at him all sweet and beautiful, sighs, complains about the lack of good tv shows and he nods but her words barely register. He loves her in secret but it makes a sound everywhere, the loudest noise he’s ever heard, and it weights on him as he carries this feeling around, a fever he keeps feeding daily.

“You okay?” she asks, the concern in her voice snapping him out of his daze. He tries to come up with an excuse, but finds none so he nods again. “You’re lying,” is her conclusion.

She’s right, of course, she’s always right and she sees through him. What is he supposed to say? She’s the good part of his life, she’s the still point of a messy world where everything falls into place, his safe haven, how can he go and confess and risk losing her like this?

Go and tell her that she’s in him, under his skin, running through his veins, she’s part of his bloodstream.

She’s waiting for him, giving him time to think of an answer, why is he lying to her, why is he so quiet? She’s his favorite person, his best friend, why is he lying to her so boldly?

Maybe she’ll hate him for saying it, maybe maybe maybe, and he’s not supposed to break down over this, no matter what.

“I am,” he says.

“What’s wrong?”

“You,” he shrugs, aware of how pathetic it all sounds yet he can’t stop himself from uttering the next word: “Me.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. Stupid, shouldn’t have opened his mouth.

Her eyebrows raised, her face scrunched up in confusion, her eyes shining with curiosity. “Leon,” she tries, but he looks down, he’s ruining this, ruining them, he’s not good with words, he’s not that great at being in love, he goes about it the wrong way, but she drags him in every time, spellbound, he’s at her mercy.

He feels her hand on his right shoulder, he looks up, eyes locked on each other. When her hand slides down to his chest, her fingers grasping at his shirt, he knows she understands, finally.

He holds her wrist and brings her hand down, caresses her skin with his thumb, and she bites her bottom lip. He leans closer, she closes her eyes and their very first kiss tastes of strawberries and mint. It starts off shy,just his lips crashing upon hers until his hands find her waist and he pulls her closer, she moans when he deepens the kiss and his heavy brain gets lighter, anxiety leaving his body as her fingers clutch his shirt again, his right hand snaking up her back, resting at the base of her neck, holding her steady because he’s been waiting for this since forever and he’s not that far from dying for it, for more of her kisses, her taste.

They break apart only to breathe; cheeks flushed and warm. “Come here,” he says and pulls her to his lap.

She’s straddling him, her lips a little swollen, invinting. He kisses her again, this time his fingers tangle on her hair. She backs away one more time, smiles and takes off her tank top, throwing it on the floor.

He can’t help but stare at her, she’s perfect and he knows there are people across the city writing poems about the rain right now, fighting, laughing, fucking, but no one else, absolutely no one else is seeing Claire Redfield the way he is now. Open, exposed, half naked, sitting on his lap ready to devour him.

He doesn’t know how to describe his feelings, thoughts swirling around his head, hammering on and on, begging him to never let go of the image before him. He gives her another kiss, drags his lips down her skin to her neck, bites her, marks her, his his his his forever his and she arches her back, moves her hips back and forth so she can feel him getting all ready for her and it’s almost too much.

Almost.

She stands up and takes off her shorts and panties while he unzips his jeans, grabs his cock and pulls it out, strokes himself as she puts on her little show. He’s so hard and there’s so much he wants to say but he’s scared he’s dreaming and the tiniest thing will take him back to reality.

She sits back on his lap, reaches out for him and grabs his cock in her hands. Smirking, she starts stroking him slowly, watching his movements, her hand going up and down his length. He looks at her, hungry and hazy.

She lifts her hips a bit, guides him, sits on his cock, he’s all the way in and she trows her head back, he lets out a grunt, her hands on his chest now for support.

She sets the rythm, rocks her hips as his hands hold her waist and then slide down to her ass, squeezing, helping her move. She leans forward, her breasts touching his chest, skin to skin, he kisses her quick, her blue eyes on him before she closes them and cries out as she increases the pace.

He holds her steady and jerks his hips upwards, thrusting into her fast, hard and deep, so fucking deep and she’s so tight and he’s losing his mind but it’s alright, it’s alright, he’s got her.

His name on the tip of her tongue, she holds on to him and he’s the one in control, but she buries her face on the crook of his neck and he slows down to tease her, to appreciate the way she clings to him and begs. Please, she says, please.

Mesmerized, his lips locked on hers, she smells of jasmine, she’s the sweetest thing.

“Please what?” his voice almost falters. “Please what, Sweetheart?”

“Please,” she says, soft and trembling. “Please please please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” it’s his answer, but really he wants to ask her how could he ever stop, he can’t get enough of her like this, can’t get her out of his veins, she’s in everything, does she love him too, he needs her to, needs her to love him like she might crumble if he ever disappears and that’s selfish, he knows, but it’s how he feels about her, she’s the one who means home, who smells like flowers and tastes like candy, melts in his mouth.

True to his word he pumps into her, doesn’t let her do anything but throw her arms around him and moan his name, every syllable heavy and soft in her voice, the pink mist that is her love intoxicating him. His thrusts start to grow erratic, her mouth hangs open in a silent cry, he licks his palm and then reaches down, uses his fingers to rub her clit, make her tremble. He feels her tighten around his cock and he keeps touching her, keeps fucking her, and then she’s leabing forward, her forehead on his, baby blue eyes staring down at him and she comes just like this, closes her eyes and bites her bottom lip, her entire body shakes on top of him but he doesn’t stop, he promised her, he doesn’t stop, pumps harder and deeper until he’s grunting, calling out for her and she’s begging him to come, she’s whispering in his ear that she wants him, all of him, come, she says, come come come and he does, goes still and holds her as if his life depends on it, comes inside her with no shame, no guilt, no fear.

It’s complicated afterwards.

When she’s still on his lap, trying to catch her breath, and he’s running his hand up and down her back, soothing and tender. It’s complicated when reality comes back and hits them, when they realize they can’t go back to how it was now, there’s no escaping from their feelings this time. She’s brave enough to move first, to stand up and gather her clothes from the floor, but she’s not brave enough to speak a word, no. She’s waiting for him, putting on her panties and shorts and tank top, and when she turns to meet his gaze again she catches him fixing himself too, zipping up his pants and then taking a deep sigh. It breaks her heart for a second, that sigh. Maybe he regrets this already, but she has no idea her silence is tearing him apart as well.

Finally, she asks:

“Did we ruin everything?”

She’s not sure what everything is.

He looks at her, tries to think of a way to explain to her that he’s been waiting for her since forever and that she’s all he thinks about without scaring her off, but it’s a little difficult. They’ve survived a lot of things together and somewhere in between he fell in love with her. It’s a silly cliche, that much he’s willing to admit. The falling for your friend thing. He’s not good at this, he’s not good at feeling this much without being scared. Last time he thought things always worked out in the end he was twenty-one years old and heading straight into a zombie infested town. He’s tired, exhausted, his body aches and he knows the truth now, knows that no matter how unfair it seems, horrible things will happen no matter what.

“No.”

“That was easy,” she says, smiling. “No? Just like that?”

The smile he gives her in return is a little lazy, his eyes are half closed as if he’s a second away from drifiting off to sleep. She’s ready to shake him when he catches her hand, flings her clothes away one more time and pulls her back on his lap. Standing up and ignoring the questioning of the woman in his arms, he makes his way upstairs, her clothes falling on the steps as he goes straight to her bedroom and throws her on the bed, gets on top of her and kisses her again.

He drags his lips down her neck, her chest, her breasts and that’s when he takes his time, sucks on both of them, makes the hair on the back of her head stand up as she clings to him. She gasps when he decides he’s had enough and starts making his way down with gentle kisses across her skin and when he plants one right above her navel she feels like screaming in anticipation.

There are too many thoughts racing from her head, ranging from affirmations to confusion. She keeps trying to silence the need to ask about what they’re doing, the need to know if this is a one time thing, if it’s a mistake but then he feels his tongue on her, soft and good and heavy and she throws her head back as he eats her out, licks her like candy, swirls the tip of his tongue around her clit and then sucks on it until her hands find his head and her fingers pull on his hair, controlling the speed, the rythm, controlling him. Her legs up on his shoulders, she bites her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, the bitter taste of iron turns sweet anyway, and when that first little wave hits her she taps on his shoulder, her fingers twist around his hair and she makes him look at her and he’s messy and handsome.

He smirks before going down on her again, she throws her head back and lets herself feel, arches her back and comes a second time with a cry, her breath hitches and she feels suspended in time and space with him-a sort of gift after being through so much together. He comes back up distributing kisses all over her body, stops when he reaches her necks and bites down gently, making her squirm and laugh and then he finally kisses her and she understands that tasting herself on his lips is the greatest thing in the world.

He’s all hers.

Moving to the right side of the bed, he pulls her to him and she rests her head on his chest.

“Why am I the only one naked?” she asks.

He laughs like a boy, says: “You can strip me during the next round.”

“Oh, I will,” she says, chuckling. “Leon…this-”

“Isn’t a one time thing.”

“No?”

“I don’t want it to be. Do you?”

“No, but-” she sits up, looks down at him. “What is this?” she takes a breath, goes on. “I mean, you’re Leon. You’re not just some guy, I don’t want to lose you if things go wrong.”

“Why would things go wrong?”

“It’s us-” she makes a face. “Something always goes wrong.”

“Claire, listen,” he sits up too, grabs her hand, takes notice of how small it is underneath his. “There are good days-good days in which I’m okay and I want to see you, spend time with you, be with you. Then there are bad days and I’m off somewhere fighting over something that never ends. I thought it would, you know, eventually, I thought there’d be one last fight and that was it, we take down Umbrella and we’re free. But it wasn’t like that, and it’ll never be like that and I have horrible days when I can barely stand and I still want to be with you. I still want to see you.”

Brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, he caresses her face. “I want you all the time. I want you in my life. I know I’m a little late here, I know that we’re past that point where we can just see how things unfold, but I’m in love with you-and I think we can be pretty great together.”

The confession is as sudden as her kiss. She throws her arms around his neck, and when they break apart she rests her forehead on his, staring into his eyes, smiling from ear to ear.

His hands shake like those of an anxious child.

“I love you, too,” she admits, the pressure on her chest gone the second those words leave her mouth. “I don’t think you’re late at all.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “I do think that, well, now you should really strip.”

“I think that’s a good idea, too,” he tells her, laughing and then grabbing her by the waist, his lips on hers, and for the first time in his life, he’s not afraid of anything.


End file.
